Remains of a Forgotten Age
by Eilisan
Summary: Due to a favor owed, a distant stranger makes their way to our favorite school, taking with them their unique way of life, and amusing quirks. How will all involved survive the experience? (ADMM in the end)
1. An old door

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Niara and the Limfiti crew. All the rest, Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter Series are property of J.K. Rowling.

Summary: Due to a favor owed, a distant stranger makes their way to our favorite school, leading to mayhem for all. How will all involved survive the experience? (AD/MM in the end)

A/N – I've read so much fanfiction, and I think that it's about time to contribute some of my own. Special thanks to my beta reader, Sobralia. Wish me luck...

**Remains of a Forgotten Age  
**

**Prologue **

* * *

**Prologue **

Snow capped mountain ranges – a glorious testament of nature's supreme majesty. One could argue that a person could spend their entire life in such splendor, and it would be time well spent.

Then why, you might ask, are words of extreme profanity echoing off the grand slopes of this land, spoken with such force of will?

The answer lies in the form of a brown haired individual currently sprawled face first in the underbrush, a person who has recently fallen head over heals and is now getting well acquainted with the ground.

_ Very_ well acquainted.

And because he has been honored with this special bonding time with nature, he is expressing his enjoyment in a very verbal manner. A simple explanation really.

However, a more interesting topic of study lies not with our collapsed, cursing friend, but with the reason for his tumble to earth. For, protruding from the earth, slightly buried by the rotting undergrowth, is the large cracked wooden door that tripped him.

Now one might ask themselves why on earth there would be a door of any sort in the middle of a desolate forest. If you are, you are in good company, for our annoyed friend is wondering the exact same thing.

But no matter, for our story does not lie with him, but with that door he is lying on, and the people who once walked through it, not on top of it.

On closer inspection, one might notice burns crisscrossing across its broken edges. With a bit of imagination, you can glimpse the door as it must once have looked long ago, engravings carved into its massive surface by the hand of a master carpenter. You can almost breathe in the fragrance of sawdust and wood smoke that permeated the workshop in which it was built; see the blows to the chisel as the hammer struck down, feeding energy into the door with a steady blow. With a door like this, once can almost feel the magic of life that danced around and through it as time went by.

Unfortunately, a broken wooden door is all that remains now; a ghost from a forgotten age. ****

  
A/N – Just the beginning – the Potter world that we all know and love is coming up quickly in the next few chapters – just setting the mood. Any comments on how I could improve on my writing would be greatly appreciated! -Eilisan


	2. Another day in paradise

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except Niara and the Limfiti crew. All the rest, Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter Series are property of J.K. Rowling.

**A/N** :Lack a day! I forgot to thank my friend Brittany for her help on the last chapter! Thanks goes out, again, to my beta reader Sobralia! Woot! So without further ado...

**Chapter 1 -Another Day in Paradise**

Niara shifted her weight slightly onto the ball of her left foot, feeling the muscle in her right thigh relax ever so slightly. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the moments respite from the pain that this particular position of the Wutarki was giving her.

It was morning workout at Limfiti's monastery, and on the grounds it was completely silent, except for the wind shifting the trees and the measured breath of 60 trainees (with their masters) as they worked through the patterns of the Wutarki. A series of movements not unlike ti-chi, named after the wind worshiper Patune Wutarki, Wutarki was a training exercise meant to facilitate concentration in mind, and skill in body.

Unfortunately for all those present on the green that day, the Wutarki movements were a lot less relaxing, and a lot more taxing on the body than the simple movements portrayed.

'_The only thing that I want to be worshiping right now is a hot bath for my muscles'_ Niara thought wryly to herself, as the group moved into the next position; hands raised high above the head, and balanced on her right leg again.

Gritting her teeth together, Niara tried hard to find a meditation place, focusing on one of the higher mountain tops that surrounded their residence rather than on the painful pulse that had moved down to include her right calf.

Built during the late 1300's, the Limfiti monastery was a one story structure built straight into the mountain side, guaranteeing cold living conditions and little natural light all year round for those 'cursed' to call the lump of rock home. Very few 'artificial comforts' (as the masters lovingly called warm water and artificial light) had ever been installed. Just a few torches were the only means of navigation in the darkest of passageways.

An eagle screeched wilding above, and while Niara glanced back at it, her thoughts continued to flow towards the building behind her.

The main rooms that were open to the sunlight (when it was present), were the weapons training court (where, rain or shine, one could be expected to find themselves) and the main dining and cooking hall, which would have proved to be quite unpleasant a room if there was not a means for which the smoke from the cooking fires could escape built into the walls. All around the dining hall were huge woodworked panels, ending in a single engraved door that led out onto the green. Floor to ceiling, these panels depicted the history of the region, and the monastery itself.

Limfiti's, over time, had become less of a monastery and more of an intensive training center for those who wished to learn the art of defense. Perhaps it would be more accurate to state that it was a center for those whose parents wished for their children to learn the art of defense. The age of admittance to Limfiti's was a young one, and most of the younger ranks never did exactly realize what they were getting into.

_'I certainly didn't.' _Niara thought grumpily, _'If I had known what was in store for me up here, rest assured that I would have used my pudgy five year old legs to move as far as possible away from the trainer, the one that came to our village looking for prospective trainees'_

That was seventeen years ago, and at that time, ignorance was surely bliss. Otherwise the nightmares she would have had before coming to the monastery would have never let her sleep:

'I hear that you have to wake up before dawn everyday-'

'-and that you have to catch your own food or you don't eat-'

'-and you train until you drop'

Niara was jolted out of her thoughts as she felt the group move once again, this time into the final position, a meditation pose in which they would remain for some time. She allowed herself to glance around, deftly noting how well some of the newer trainees were adapting to their training.

Pleased that they were coping well (or as well as could be expected) Niara contented herself with letting her mind wander back into nothingness...

_'pay no attention to the kink in your neck...it is really quite non-existent ... ignore ...ignore ... you just think that it's there, really you're just imagining it...that's right...good._' Niara inwardly sighed, silently congratulating herself on that particular accomplishment until -

_'Damn stupid leg cramp...NO...don't think about it...its not really there...ignore...'_

Somewhere in the distance, and eagle swooped down for the kill.

* * *

****

Much too soon after the morning workout came morning training – a main part of the Limfiti lifestyle. Stifling a moan, Niara grabbed the nearest weighted staff in the rack that she was passing and hoisted it into the air. Turning back from the rack, she quickly tested the balance in the staff before shifting her focus to the gaggle of students in front of her. Her job for the last few years had been that of a master, passing on the teachings of the Limfiti to the next generation

All trainees were required to have the magical gift, but instruction taught control over not only their magic, but over their bodies as well.. Members of the Limfiti order where highly sought after due to their trade, making them skilled in a variety of jobs from body guards to assassins and spies.

A slight noise behind her made Niara glance over her shoulder, in time to see her teaching partner, Custer, grab a staff as well. Custer had been part of her training group ever since she was taken from her village. At only two years older than herself, Custer was a flamboyant African-American with deadly aim, and a diplomatic personality when he chose to show it. Niara often relied upon Custer's soothing personality to get her through the monotonous days at the monastery. He had become like her older brother. Seeing her gaze, he grinned, and moved to stand next to her.

"Another day in paradise," Custer remarked, slinging his staff over his shoulder, and looking out over the field like a marshal surveying his troops. Bending down, he whispered in her ear: "I hear that we don't have to hunt today because of the lesson"

"Thank goodness for small mercies," Niara shot back, raising an eyebrow as she massaged the back of her neck. "Do you want to be the shooter or the shootee?"

"Shooter," Custer replied, moving past her to take position a few paces back. "I never want to be on the business side of that wand of yours..."

"Trust me," Niara said playfully, "You never will."

"Hey! None of that! There are innocent minds around here!"

Swallowing a laugh that would have joined Custer's raucous one, Niara moved forward to confront the group of trainees.

"Now then, today we will be covering the usage of the staff as a form of defense against a magical attack. The very structure of the staff, if made correctly, is for its usage in the absorption and redirection of magical fire," Niara started to walk towards the group of youngsters, passing her staff from hand to hand.

"The only trick is mastering how to control the re-direction." She stopped moving, and turned back to face Custer. He took her lead, and continued.

"Most," his strong voice carrying, "Are not even aware of the staff's magical ability, seeing as the ability to channel the power is fickle, and temperamental."

Niara took her staff and flipped it to face outward, showing a slight groove present in the base of the staff. She then turned the staff over slightly to show the continuation of the groove up the side of the staff.

"If you are able to absorb the magical attack with the base, then the magic will immediately be stored, and, in a moment's breath, will be redirected out the side of the staff." She flipped the staff back over to the other side one again. "Let me demonstrate."

She turned back to Custer and fell into her ready position, feeling the group clustered around her back away to give her room. She gave a slight nod of her head, following Custer's movements with only her eyes. Taking a step back, Custer drew his wand and opened his mouth;

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Niara felt, rather than saw, the spell rush towards her from his wand point. Stepping to one side, Niara brought the staff up to meet to bolt of light in a fluid movement. On contact, she quickly flipped the staff so that the groove was facing out towards her group of students, trying to hide a grin. The effect was instantaneous:

"Cool Ma'am"

"It's just like you hit him yourself!"

"He didn't even see it coming!"

"Poor sod!"

Slight laughter came from the group as the trainees swarmed around their fallen comrade for a while. She flipped the staff back upright, and dug the point into the group, leaning on it slightly as she surveyed the impact of her demonstration. Behind her, she heard a brief counter-curse muttered, and all too soon she was confronted one again by shining eager faces.

Raising one eyebrow in question she stared back at the group, then hefted the staff into her hands. "Well then, shall we get started?"

* * *

****

"All in all, a very productive day," Custer remarked to Niara as they headed back towards the dining room from the field. The sun was starting to set behind them, and Niara could see the torches in the monastery flickering to life as they were lit by students.

"Yes, they're well on their way to mastering the staff," she replied, kicking a small stone out from in front of her with her muddy boot. "Though I'm not so sure about Tayna, we will have to keep an eye on him."

"Definitely" Custer replied, nodding his head as he opened the door to the dining room and motioned Niara to precede him. She thanked him with a soft smile.

"The best part of a day of teaching, no matter how rewarding the job might be, has to be coming back to the warm hall," Niara remarked, grabbing a small wooden bowl from a stack at the door, and handing an identical one to Custer. She glanced into a pot in the hearth, then looked back up at him, her eyes twinkling slightly. "Pre-caught food – my favorite."

"Suit yourself – I like to know exactly what that food looked like running madly about before it ended up in my pot."

Shaking her head slightly, glad for the respite of having to gather her own food, Niara ladled a generous portion of the stew into both bowls. She felt Custer leave her side, making his way over to a couple of free seats on the other side of the hall. Dropping the ladle back into the pot, she followed quickly behind him.

"What have we got planned for tomorrow?" The question was posed as both tried to navigate their way through the maze of chairs and tables.

"A bit more staff work, then I think that we can move onto making a shield spell using the energy from a spell blast."

Niara grimaced "I always hated that part of the training; the shield spell has always caused me more than my fair share of grief."

Custer turned back to look at her "Really? All it involves is creating an energy shield about your person."

"I know," Niara sighed. "But all I could ever think about was how the masters were watching my every move, and I could never get the shield to go up around me. It always formed about the caster of the spell, making them immune to my attack. Gave me a real headache that one did."

Having finally arrived at their table, Custer placed his bowl on the table. "Well, you know how it make it now."

"Sometimes," Niara muttered quietly to herself, pulling out a chair from underneath the table "Only sometimes."

* * *

It was a dark morning, with the wind howling in the trees, shaking the branches with its gusty moan. Rain pelted from the sky, showering the landscape with its dripping breath.

On the field, as always, sixty trainees and masters tried to maintain their footing as the wind buffeted them – some having more success than others.

_ Ignoring – no wind... _Niara told herself firmly_. No wind at all. It's just a lovely warm sunny day _her repartee was broken off as another icy gust hit her full in the face

"Stupid bloody cold, rainy day-" she cursed under her breath, concentration snapping

In the distance, over the maddening downpour, a door could be heard creaking nosily on its rusty hinges. Stepping forward in position, she pulled her arms closer to her chest, hoping to retain the warmth that was rapidly leaving her body. When it failed she focused instead on the warmth that the hearth would bring after their training, of the safety from the storm the room would provide. She could already image the noisy door locked up against the elements, could feel its soft texture, slightly slimy from the wetness of many dampened hands holding open as they ran through the door arch. She could even already hear the sounds of the storm deaden around her, the resulting silence deafening as the door slammed shut...

A crack of thunder jolted her back into her sodden, freezing body. Clenching her fists she returned her focus to the next position, imagining daggers attacking the invisible face of the person who had first recommended her for the Litichi training.

You get your comfort in whatever form you can on a wet field in the middle of nowhere.

* * *

Brushing her dripping hair out of her face as she made her way through the dimly lit corridors of the hallway, Niara once again cursed her family for enrolling her in this way of life.

'Not that I don't enjoy it,' she muttered to herself , just as a particularly large gust of wind howled through the open windows. 'It's just that sometimes one should be allowed to enjoy the comforts of running water coming from a place other than the sky or a stream!' Caught up in her thoughts, Niara almost ran head on into a trainee racing around the corner

"Ma'am!"

The boy, Carl, the one who had been the unlucky recipient of her reflected spell the other day looked startled, but pleased to see her in front of him.

"I was just looking for you ma'am!" (_'Ah_,' Niara thought, _'That accounts for the 'I'm so happy to see you' expression after I just recently knocked him out cold_')

"I have a letter for you! Well, actually, it's not from me, it just came to the master, but he says that the letter obviously applies to you so –"

"Stop your blithering boy!" she cut in

"Sorry, Ma'am."

A soaking letter was pushed into her outstretched palm before Carl ran off, his duty done. Niara moved closer to one of the torch brackets and flipped the drenched letter over. In the flickering lamp light Niara could just make out the shapely green lettering:

To Ms. Niara Jair

North Dormitory

Limifiti monastery

Wendell Mountains

North Pacific

Odd, she'd had no contact with anyone who'd be writing a letter to her specifically. Anyone who was outside the monastery was probably under orders not to have contact with the outside world for fear of discovery. Job requests, when they came to the monastery, were rarely directed towards a single person. Letters stating the type of job that was required were usually sent to the main office, and it was the head master who decided who was best for the job.

'Owl post too,' she thought to herself, looking at the claw indentations of the outside of the envelope 'Figures I suppose, since it's the only real way to get word to us out here..."

Mystified, with visions of work as a deadly spy master, or as an undercover body guards for high ranking (and high paying) ambassadors playing through her head, Niara opened the envelope and began to read...

* * *

A/N Cliffie! Any and all comments pertaining to my writing style, mechanics, etc. would, as always, be greatly appreciated. Just one request – could they please have more substance than: 'DIE MARY SUE DIE', or something along those lines? This is my first story, so anything that you think would help me become a better writer, give me a holler! 


	3. A Time of yet more Rain

Chapter 2 – A Time of (yet more) Rain

_AN – Sorry about the wait – mistakes are mine._

"_With all the blissfully manageable weather patterns that are present on this world of ours, why are we forced to endure weather like this?"_ Niara thought angrily, directing the comment at the slashing rain which was currently dripping down the opposite side of her window. A particularly large bump jolted the Thestral towed carriage upward, causing Niara's forehead to bounce slightly on the window pane, and hold her handbag even closer to her chest in an attempt to remain on her seat. It was a hard battle to win.

It had been over three hours, and Niara wasn't sure how much more of the jolting her sanity could endure. Not to mention the bumping…or the endless potholes and mindless lurching of the wheels as they wove their way down the muddy pathway.

The rain flecked glass, coupled with the darkness outside, made the glass window work as a sort of mirror when the light struck it correctly. It was all Niara could do to not grimace at the image reflected back at her.

Niara wasn't tall for her age, but she wasn't short either. More stocky than lean, the years of training in all conditions had bleached her hair a light brown, and had bronzed her skin to a weathered tan. With her hair down she looked hideous and wild, and so preferred to keep the split ends hidden within a braid or bun. Crow's feet were visible at the corners of her eyes, which had bags underneath that never really seemed to go away, and only served to highlight the blandness in her plain, brown eyes. Her lips, when parted in a smile, could light up her whole face. But when she was dead tired, like she was now, with rain streaked hair and bloodshot eyes, she looked worse than a banshee.

"What better way to greet your future employer than looking like death warmed up?" Niara muttered humorously to herself.

Her eyes searched longingly for some sign of civilization through the rain induced mists. The weather had decided to accompany her ever since she had left the village at the base of the mountain nearest to the monastery. Niara was initially ecstatic to be greeted by the sight of the covered carriage, and the respite it promised from the rain. Needless to say, her enthusiasm was now severely dampened.

She wanted out of this carriage, and she wanted out _now._

Strangely enough, (or maybe not so, considering the current circumstances) the one place she wanted to be right now was back at Limfiti's.

On her last morning at Limfiti's, Niara had been enjoying her late breakfast with the other Masters when Custer had received a small, unremarkable letter from a northern hawk owl. He'd opened and scanned the letter quickly, his expression growing grimmer with every word he read. Muttering apologies to those at the table, Custer had left his seat in a hurry, the letter grasped tightly in his left hand. He'd been acting oddly ever since.

If Niara was self-centered, she might have assumed that his mood was entirely due to sadness at her leaving. But Niara knew Custer well enough to know when something was up.

Niara started muttering to the shadows splayed on the wall by the swinging lamp attached to the roof of the carriage.

"_He's not one for dramatics, and he usually fills me in on important things."_ Niara thought back to that morning. Custer had volunteered to help her pack up her things a few days before she had to leave, and was helping her out after the letter had arrived.

"It was so very odd" Niara remarked to the shadows. They didn't reply, but it made Niara start to think back…

For the first part of the packing, Custer had been silent, going through her clothes with almost mechanical distain. When he had reached over to pick up one of her knives from where it had fallen on the floor, he stopped mid-stretch, fingers closing on thin air, as he was seemingly overcome by thought. He glanced over his shoulder at Niara, sighed, then looked back at the knife, picking it up with rigid fingers.

"To be truthful, I'm kind of glad that you're leaving right now" Custer remarked in an would be casual manner, not looking her in the eye. He moved slowly around her small room, every so often picking up a nick-knack and throwing it into her bag.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Niara asked bewildered, twisting her head over to the side in order to follow Custer's movements. He seemed agitated, and ill-at-ease, a huge change from his normal cavalier and carefree attitude.

"What I said – I'm… I'm glad you won't be involved in … well…involved in all of this anymore." Custer said, gesturing with his hand to the room around them.

"You mean, you're glad I won't be in the monetary…"

"No, gods no Niara, I never said that." He put out his hands, as if to convince her he hadn't meant his words in that manner. "You know that I'm going to miss you like…"

"So why are you glad that I'm leaving then?" Niara interrupted, crossing her hands across her chest as she confronted him. "Don't go chauvinistic on me Custer, I know that you're better than that…"

"I'm not going chauvinistic!" Custer exclaimed, bringing a hand to his head.

Niara narrowed her eyes at him in an attempt to figure out what was going on. "If this is some attempt at expressing your undying love for me, I can tell you now that it's not working very well…"

Custer barked out his half laugh, then started to pace, "I can assure you that this is not a profession of love…"

"Then please get to the point Custer…" Niara countered

"I can't tell you the point, because I don't know it yet!" Custer almost shouted. "God's Niara!" he exclaimed, then sighed again, running a hand over his face and then pulling at a strand of his hair.

"You're not making any sense" Niara said to Custer levelly, trying to make him start acting rationally.

Custer looked at her again, and then down at the small knife he held in his hand. He went over to Niara, grabbed her left hand in his right, and place the knife handle in her palm, closing her fingers one by one over the hilt with his own.

"Something needs to be done." Custer said softly, almost as though he was speaking entirely to himself. Then he looked her in the eye again "Things _are_ going to be done. God's know that if you were here you'd help us out all that you could…I know you would…but as the matter stands…"

"Custer!" Niara exclaimed, yanking her hand from his and looked at him expectantly. "You are not making any sense whatsoever. Now, if you could please inform me of what you are talking about, we can continue this conversation and…" She broke off at the look on Custer's face – one of a man defeated

"What aren't you telling me Custer?" She asked softly, worry clearly evident in her tone.

Custer shook his head, moving over towards the door, but Niara stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"What aren't you telling me?" Niara asked again.

Custer swallowed, put his hand on the doorknob, but still said nothing.

"It was something to do with that letter wasn't it?" Niara stated. Custer remained silent, but by the set of his shoulders, Niara could see that she was correct.

"It needs to be done. But I'm glad that you won't be forced to endure all that…that you'll be safe and…"

"CUSTER!" She said exasperatedly, throwing the knife down onto her bed as she moved over towards him. "You can start explaining what you're talking about anytime now!"

Custer looked back at her, smiled his sad smile, then lent over and kissed her softly on the cheek. Pulling back, he whispered softly "I can't."

Niara shook her head in total confusion, but Custer had already started to open the door. He stopped in the doorway mid-stride, turned back at her, and offered a half-hearted grin which was only a ghost of his former self. "You take care of yourself now."

"I still don't understand…" Niara almost moaned to herself.

She nearly didn't hear the answer over the soft closing of her door, and Custer's footsteps as they echoed down the hallway.

"_You will."_

"Ah, gods bless the bloody, stupid, rainy season" Niara muttered grimly to herself, taking out her anger at being left in the dark by Custer by cursing the weather. She didn't like the way he'd been acting – not one bit. The only way she could possibly have gotten to the bottom of his behavior involved hanging around at the monastery, hassling him until he caved in and told her everything.

Unfortunately, that option was obviously out of the question at the current moment.

Niara held on as the carriage dipped again into another pothole, causing a spray of mud encrusted water to slosh up onto the carriage. As some managed to leak through the cracks in the carriage door, Niara smiled with sad disgust; at least _some_ of the mess inside the carriage wasn't her fault.

"_On that happy note, how did I manage to get into this mess?" _ She thought savagely to herself, referring not only to her appearance, but also to the profession which the carriage was taking her to.

"_One little letter, 'just a little favor' he said – oh little favor indeed!"_ A death sentence was more like it. One year, if not longer, smack dab in the middle of war ravaged Britain, acting as a teacher for a school that the most wicked wizard living hoped to blow up; a school full of pea brained idiots who wouldn't know a sword from a spatula.

"A sword marm…professor" she quietly corrected, mimicking in the silence what she expected to hear as soon as she arrived at this pampered playhouse "I don't really know – looks like some sort of cooking utensil to me." She gave an unladylike snort, then switched to another voice that reeked of childlike naivety:

"I don't really see the difference – they're all the same really, seeing as they each have a handle and all…the sword…the spatula…"

Laying her head against the backrest, Niara reasoned with herself "Maybe I'll just run away, and go live in the forest near the school. I've heard it's a rather challenging one to get by in…but then again, most things work out that way." She shook her head slightly in utter contempt at her position.

Then, in the distance, pinpricks of light could be seen, straining out in the blinding darkness. Gripping her bags more tightly to her chest, she tried to ignore the first stirrings of panic at the sight of finally seeing where she would be working.

But fate still seemed to be laughing at her. The carriage jolted, rear wheels spinning wildly, as the carriage came to a sudden halt. Thinking that she had finally arrived, Niara cautiously opened the door, and stepped out onto the sodden pathway. Niara was immediately buffeted by the wind and rain, which she tried to ignore as she surveyed her current situation.

The carriage was completely and utterly bogged down in the mud, and no straining by the Thestrals seemed to be changing this. The animals were beginning to panic, eyes wide with terror as they pulled against the harness which held them to the carriage. One reared up on its hind legs, and Niara she rushed over to calm it, fingers fumbling over the brass fastenings of the harness for some way to set the beasts free.

"Easy there fellows, we'll have you out of these things in a moment."

As the final clasp was loosened, all six of the animals broke free, galloping wildly off into the distance. Niara gazed mournfully at their retreating backs, cursing her stupidity at letting her only form of transportation escape, and yet knowing that there was no other way around it.

She walked back to the door of the carriage which was creaking loudly in the wind. Opening the door with frozen fingers, she began to pick up her limited processions.

The bag with most of her clothing and assorted objects was unceremoniously slung over her back, and with a swift tug Niara had freed her staff from where she had stashed it underneath the carriage seat. Closing the door to the carriage tightly behind her, Niara pushed back her shoulders, and started to make her own way down the muddy path, boots squelching with each step as the rain pelted her.

In the gloom, Niara failed to see the signpost on her right, worn wood weeping in the rain. But fate, this time, seemed to have taken pity on her.

She was on the right path to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A muddy, dark, and twisting path.

How oddly fitting.

AN: Thanks to all who've reviewed for your interest, sorry about the wait. The next installment is on its way…and I have just had a brainwave for the plot. Three cheers to exams and paperwork – how happy our lives would be without them…

The characters we all know and love are on their way in the next chapter.

Any questions and comments will be happily accepted and criticism is always appreciated (as long as its constructive). Reviews are always enjoyed

Until Next Time - Eilisan


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